


Tell Me How

by lucky_katebishop



Series: Spideychelle Song One-Shots [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Grieving Peter, POV Michelle Jones, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sharing a Bed, a good mixture of both fluff and angst, but also angst, dead Ben rule, pining Michelle, they are so awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_katebishop/pseuds/lucky_katebishop
Summary: "Tell me how to feel about you now" - Tell Me How, ParamorePeter Parker didn't show up to school. Michelle wasn't obsessed with him or anything, she was just observant. That's why she noticed. Not for any other reason...On the anniversary of Ben's death, MJ finds Peter outside a convenience store and tries her best to console him.





	Tell Me How

**Author's Note:**

> Damn this thing took like an entire month to write. But I'm super proud of it! Also I call her Michelle a lot during this because I doubt she calls herself MJ in her head.

Peter Parker didn’t show up to school. 

Michelle was observant. That’s all. It wasn’t like she was  _ obsessed  _ with Peter Parker or anything. Not at all. She just felt like she had the  _ right  _ to keep track of him. Because he was Spider-Man. Because she had to make sure no one else would find out. So Peter not showing up to school was something that Michelle took stock of. 

It wasn’t like it was an end of the world sort of thing. People missed school. Peter missed school. Hell, he even had that moment just earlier that year where he skipped school constantly. So Peter not showing up shouldn’t have mattered. But there was something in Michelle that felt like it  _ did  _ matter. 

She tried not to express her worry during lunch with Ned just a few feet away, playing his DS, while Michelle stuck her head in her book. She tried to make glancing at him discreet, but he saw past her facade. 

“What?” Ned asked her, setting down his device, looking in her direction with an exasperated look on his face. 

Michelle, trying her best not to show that she was embarrassed that she got caught, shrugged and held her book closer to her face and said, “Nothing.” 

“He’s not here today,” Ned said before taking a bite of his sandwich. 

“Who?” Michelle asked, trying her best to sound disinterested. She could  _ hear  _ Ned rolling his eyes from his seat which monumentally pissed her off. 

“The guy that’s made you stare at the same page for the past twenty minutes.” 

Michelle was at a loss for words. She honestly didn’t think she was being that obvious. Anyways, who did Ned think he was? She wanted to shove Ned’s face into his lunch, but she figured that wouldn’t go too well with the administration board. 

So, instead, she gathered up her things and got out of her seat, told Ned that he could go fuck himself on her way out, and ignored her burning cheeks.

The absolute nerve that Ned had. She was just worried that Peter had gotten  _ killed  _ or something from his nightly Spider-Man activities. It wasn’t anything beyond that… 

Although she would be lying if she said that on the off occasion where he wasn’t pissing her off that she didn’t think about his small smile when he got an answer right during decathlon, or the sound of his laugh whenever Ned make a stupid pun, or even his stupid paranoid look when he and Ned would not so quietly talk about Spider-Man or the Avengers. 

Even if she buried all these thoughts to a deep corner in her mind, she wasn’t  _ that _ in denial that she couldn't admit these things. But it didn’t mean that she had a crush on him or anything like that. Ned was just being an asshole. 

So if Michelle deliberately gave Ned questions he wouldn’t know during decathlon practice, that wasn’t her fault. Ned brought that on himself. 

She thought about texting him. Like a quick, “hey dork you missed decathlon again” or “if you miss decathlon again you’re off the team” or even maybe a “you got your ass handed to you last night and that’s why you missed practice huh” but she didn’t. 

It didn’t mean that she didn’t spend practically the whole day writing drafts on her phone then deleting them, however. But she would never admit that. 

It was most likely her fifteenth deleted draft when she saw him sitting down on the pavement outside a convenience store with his head in his hands. 

She had been getting grape soda because whenever she had a big test to study for, she stocked up with grape soda and peach gummy rings, but she had already run out of the soda. It didn’t do wonders for her health but it did make her more inclined to study.

She wondered how she didn’t even notice him, but then again her mind was preoccupied about whether or not she would text the idiot and when King Louis IX died, so she digressed. 

As if approaching a shy animal, she walked up to Peter slowly, towering over him and nudging his shoe with hers. 

“Hey,” Michelle said, trying her absolute best not to sound concerned. Peter looked up at her in mild surprise. 

“Oh, hey, MJ,” he said, his voice sounding hoarse. 

“You loiter around convenience stores often?”

_ Play coy. Tease him.  _ But all she got in reply were shrugged shoulders. Michelle furrowed her brows and sat next to him. She told herself to wait for him to speak. Wait for him to make the first move… ( _ not that it was a move at all _ )

So, trying to play cool, Michelle waited and played her shoe laces, noticing every single time Peter would hesitate to speak but shut his mouth. Just as she was about to give up, he spoke. 

“I had to get out of the apartment.” 

If it were appropriate, Michelle would get out her distressed people sketchbook and start drawing him. But it wasn’t, and thank god she didn’t have her sketchbook because something in her would make her start drawing him anyways. 

“You okay?” Michelle asked, her voice as quiet as she could make it, trying not to scare him as though he would run away if she raised her voice even half an octave louder. 

Peter laughed a bitter laugh that Michelle never wanted to hear again because it meant that he was in  _ pain  _ and she didn’t know what to do with that information. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s late.” 

Michelle took note of how Peter sounded  _ annoyed  _ at her for being out so late at night. Her usual remark would be to tell Parker to shut the hell up and that she could take care of herself, but she remembered who she was talking to, and that she had never seen him like this before, and it meant that something was seriously wrong. 

“I ran out of grape soda,” Michelle said, nodding towards her plastic bag that Peter didn’t even bother looking at. 

“Funny, I would’ve pegged you as more of a Fanta person,” Peter said, without the usual teasing tone. 

Michelle didn’t like this. She hated that they were talking around the issue, that he was being so  _ cold,  _ that she had no idea what to do. A really big part of her wanted to leave him alone, to take the easy way out and see him another time when he’s being his usual chipper and awkward self so she could ignore this side of him and pretend it didn’t exist. But a tiny part of her where it told-  _ screamed  _ at her that she had to stay, that Peter’s feelings had to take the center stage was the one she ended up listening to. 

“You don’t have to stay here with me, you know. You can leave,” Peter said after a little while. 

“Do you really want me to?” 

"Have you ever fucked up so monumentally that you know nothing could possibly make it better?" Peter asked, deliberately avoiding the question. 

"Um," was all Michelle could say.

" _ With great power comes great responsibility _ . What bullshit."

Michelle prided herself on being observant. It was one of her skills she was actually proud of, and it’s why she held herself to the degree she did. She knew that “being observant” was an excuse to not join in any social engagements or have any actual  _ meaningful  _ friends. By being observant she could sit on the sidelines and watch others live their actual lives… really it was just a cowardly way to live. By using that excuse she wouldn’t have to get close to others. She wouldn’t ever get hurt. 

And here was Peter Parker, the guy she had been observing for so long because she was too scared to get close to him because she was afraid what it would mean, having some sort of breakdown. She didn’t want this, she hadn’t prepared for it. She just meant to get some grape soda and study for the rest of the night.  _ She never prepared for this.  _

"My uncle said that to me, just before he-" Peter stopped himself, his breath caught in his throat. "Before he bled out just a couple feet from where we're sitting." 

_ Oh. Fuck. _

What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Give him a hug and tell him it gets better, whatever the hell that bullshit was? 

When she was younger, her mom had gotten her books on how to be more sociable. She spent hours reading those books, trying to find the best solution to make friends on the playground. She tried them out but it never successfully made her any friends, only weird looks and mean names. Even though they didn’t work, she had memorized every rule and tip. But none of them ever told her what to do with a friend who has witnessed a loved one die in front of them. Michelle was grasping at straws. 

So, she did what any person would do. She wrapped her arms around Peter in a stiff hug. She felt him tense in her arms. Apparently the hug made him snap out of his depressed stupor. 

“Um, Michelle? What are you doing?” Peter asked. He still didn’t sound all there, but it was a start. 

“I’m hugging you.” 

“Oh.” 

“It felt like the right thing to do. Sorry,” Michelle said, letting him go, thankful that the streets were dark so he couldn’t see how red her cheeks were. She really had to get better at the whole consoling thing. 

Peter took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders at her apology. 

“Peter, what happened wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have predicted what happened to your uncle.” 

For the first time that night, Peter looked at her. It almost caught her off guard. He looked so  _ broken.  _ So beaten down. So tired. 

She knew that he didn’t believe her, as aggravating and heartbreaking as that was, but he didn’t challenge her. She figured he was fed up with trying to validate his fucked up narrative. 

“Are you going to stay out here all night?” Michelle asked him, glancing at her watch that read fifteen minutes to midnight. She really wanted to ask him why he was torturing himself, but she already knew the answer. It screamed red and blue spandex and a hero complex bigger than Captain America’s biceps. 

“I can walk you home if you want,” Peter said quietly. Michelle rolled her eyes, because even with all what was going on with him, he was willing to walk her home. Because that was the kind of person he was. It was infuriating. 

The walk to Michelle’s was quiet. When they reached her door, Peter shuffled his feet. 

“So are you gonna… go back?” Michelle asked. She noticed how Peter flinched slightly. She made a note to use better wording next time. Peter shrugged his shoulders. 

“I don’t really want to go back to the apartment. It’s too much, with May and, well, everything.” 

“You could come in,” Michelle said. 

Usually she always thought before she spoke. Sometimes she thought so much that the conversation has already ended. But this time, it was like someone took over her body. A more confident assure version of Michelle that scared and intrigued her. 

“What?” Peter asked. She tried not to take it personally when he took a small step away from her. 

“It’s just that,” Michelle started, racking her brain for anything to justify her rash decisions, “you shouldn’t be alone tonight.” She took a deep breath. “ _ I _ don’t want you to be alone tonight.” 

He was going to laugh at her. He was going to call her names and tell her that he would rather sleep in Hell’s Kitchen with all the gangs and criminals than even think about staying the night with h-

“Okay.” 

_ Oh.  _

He was going to say okay. 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Okay,” Michelle affirmed. She stood in front of him, holding her grape soda, the prospect of studying long gone, now the tantalizing fear of having to spend the night with  _ Peter Parker  _ cloud her brain. 

“Are you going to let me in, or?” Peter asked, nodding towards her apartment door. 

“Oh, right.” 

She let him in, whispering to him that he had to stay quiet because her parents were just in the next room. She led him to her room, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Michelle was glad she gave in and cleaned her room earlier that day. 

Feeling on display, Michelle stood in a corner and crossed her arms. 

This was weird. She never had a boy in her room before. She never had anybody but her family in her room before. Suddenly her room felt like it belonged to a child with its spare stuffed animals littered across the room that she had since childhood. She was afraid that Peter would see her as a slob with all the mountains of books covering almost every square inch of the place. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about tonight. I just…” Peter trailed off, his eyes towards the floor, his hands fisted in his pockets. He looked small. Too small. 

Against her better judgement, Michelle took a few steps forward. For a second, she wanted to place a hand on Peter’s cheek, to make him look at her, to force him to take what she was going to say seriously. But she had already crossed the line too far tonight. So instead, she kept her arms safely at her sides. 

“You don’t have to apologize for having feelings,” Michelle said. “If anything, I should apologize for being so lousy with consoling you.” 

Michelle was caught off guard when Peter closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him. She tensed, unsure of what to do. 

“What are you doing?” Michelle asked. 

“Um, I’m hugging you,” Peter said. 

Calling it a hug would be a major exaggeration. But it was better than her awkward excuse of a hug earlier. She was suddenly very aware of what Peter’s shampoo smelled of. Coconut and vanilla. She told herself she wasn’t being creepy, just observant. 

“Sorry, it felt like the right thing to do,” Peter said, pulling away slightly, giving her a small smile. 

For a split second, Michelle wondered what it would be like if she leaned down just a couple inches and kissed him. 

The thought made her push him away, causing him to trip over a stack of books. 

“Sorry, I just, um. It’s late and we have school tomorrow,” Michelle said, avoiding his eye. 

Michelle grabbed a pair of shorts from her dresser and threw them aggressively at Peter. She didn’t mean to hit him in the face with them, but she was freaking out internally, which affected her aim. 

“I doubt you want to sleep in your jeans. Those are my gym shorts. I always get a bigger size so they’ll fit you,” Michelle said. 

She then grabbed her own pajamas and went to her door. 

“I’m gonna go change in the bathroom. You can change in here.” 

When she was in the bathroom she wondered why she was being so awkward. 

She told herself that it was just Peter Parker. 

She then reminded herself that it was  _ Peter Parker.  _

Michelle didn’t know what the hell she was doing. She wish she could rewind the entire night. She wouldn’t even study any more. She was most likely going to bomb her history test the next day. 

But Peter needed her. Or, that’s what she was telling herself. 

When she was back, she saw Peter had put the shorts on and taken his hoodie off, revealing a science pun t-shirt that she had seen at least twenty or so times. 

She stood in the doorway, clutching her clothes like a shield. Peter was looking through one of her books. 

“ _ Of Human Bondage.  _ Good one,” Michelle said, taking a step forward. She threw her clothes in her closet. 

She decided she would play it cool. Like always. She was just Michelle and he was just Peter and they were just friends. That was okay. She told herself it was okay. 

“So…” Peter started, “it’s getting late. We should probably go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Michelle agreed, nodding her head. 

“Where do you want me?” Peter asked her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Do you want me down here or, I don’t know, over there, or?” Peter asked, pointing towards the ground. 

She was an idiot. She never thought about where they were actually going to sleep.

“Well I don’t have any sleeping bags. We’re not a camping family. Just, um,” Michelle said _ ,  _ “just sleep in the bed.” 

“In the bed… with you?” Peter asked. She was glad she wasn’t the only one freaking out. 

But she knew him well enough that if he was freaking out then nothing would get done. She didn’t want to stand there all night. 

“Yeah, it’s whatever. We’re just  _ sleeping _ ,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes. She walked towards the bed and threw back the covers, getting in. She waited for Peter but he didn’t move from his spot. 

“You know, I could just go home, it’s fine-” 

“Peter, get in,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes once more. Peter quickly got in the bed and drew the covers up to his chin. 

This was nothing like those romcoms that Michelle’s parents watched. They weren’t secretly in love with each other. This wasn’t romantic or quirky. This was just awkward and depressing. 

“Hey, could you turn out the light?” Michelle asked, pointing to her bedside table. Peter leaned over to turn it off but he stopped and turned to her. 

“Thank you. I didn’t want to be alone tonight.” 

“Peter, I,” Michelle stopped herself. 

If it were any other night, maybe Michelle would work up enough nerve to close the gap between her and Peter. If it were any other night, maybe she would admit to herself that her feelings for Peter were more than what she tried to tell herself. 

But she wasn’t Peter. She didn’t fight bad guys and didn’t put her life on the line for others. She was Michelle. She didn’t like to cross the line. She didn’t like to move past her comfort zone. She was fine with being a coward. 

So Michelle gave him a half-assed smile and allowed herself, just this once, to imagine a life where she could be braver than she was. 

“Goodnight.” 

“Night, MJ.” 

The next morning, Michelle found her head against Peter’s chest and in his arms. She tensed, and looked up to see that Peter was still sleeping. She didn’t even remember falling asleep. She thought she was going to stay up the whole night freaking out. 

She was going to get up, or maybe push Peter off the bed. But she knew that this would never happen again. So, she relaxed against him, closing her eyes to have just a few more minutes of this. 

Too bad her alarm clock was against her. 

The shrieking sound made Peter jump. Even against the movement, Michelle kept her eyes closed, wanting to see what Peter’s reaction would be. 

“Oh,” Peter whispered. She felt him move a strand of hair behind her ear, and tried her best not to smile.

He then turned towards the clock and pressed buttons, which then turned on the radio. His curses were drowned out by a Christian rock song. 

“MJ, how the hell do I turn this thing off?” Peter asked, nudging Michelle.

Michelle opened her eyes and reached across Peter to turn the song off. Peter breathed a sigh of relief and rested his head back on the pillow. Michelle rested her head against his chest once more and looked up at him. 

“Hi,” Peter said, smiling. 

“Hi,” Michelle smiled back. 

“Why don’t you use your phone as an alarm like everybody else?” Peter teased. She rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully. Just then, his phone started ringing. 

“What, like you?” Michelle asked. It was his turn to roll his eyes and push her playfully. But he shot up from the bed instead, and pushed back the covers. 

“Shit, May!” Peter cursed. He started taking off his shirt and shorts, going to his backpack. 

Michelle was about to ask Peter why he was stripping in her bedroom when she saw his chest.  _ Shit.  _ She knew he was a secret superhero, but she didn’t know his chest was like  _ that.  _

Peter started putting his suit on as quickly as he could, tripping over her stacks of books. 

“Jesus, how many books do you have?” 

“Um,” was all Michelle could say. Was he seriously outing himself like this right now? Just like that? No big speech? No pleading or begging that she had to keep it a secret? 

Peter grabbed his jeans and shirt and stuffed them in his backpack and walked towards the window. 

“Thanks for everything, MJ. I’ll see you at school,” he said, going out the window. 

Michelle sat in her bed for a moment, unsure of what to do or how to respond. She knew he was Spider-Man, that was obvious, but there was a very small part of her that thought maybe he was just in a fight club or something. 

And his abs.  _ Fuck.  _

She was about to go about her morning when Peter popped back up in the window. He tore his mask off. 

“Please don’t tell anyone.” 

There it is. 

“See you at school, Peter,” Michelle said. Peter gave her a smile that made her want to stab the tiny butterflies in her stomach. She watched him disappear and smothered herself with her blanket. She smiled as she smelled coconut and vanilla. 

She ended up failing her history test. But, she considered it okay because she stole the hoodie he left in her room. 

He finally noticed her wearing it when they were at lunch. She had her head in her latest book when he threw a carrot at her. 

“You stole my hoodie,” Peter said. She set her book down and turned to him. 

“And you threw a carrot at me. Also,” Michelle started, staring down at the hoodie, “aviation? I didn’t know you were into planes.” 

Peter looked down and smiled softly. 

“It was actually my uncle’s.” 

Michelle stole a dead man’s hoodie. 

“Oh, shit,” Michelle said, and started to take the hoodie off. Peter threw another carrot at her. 

“No, no, it’s okay, really,” Peter said. Michelle stopped and looked at him uneasily. “It looks good on you.” 

Michelle decided to be brave. She got up from her table, grabbed her things, ignored Ned’s whisper, “dude I think you pissed her off,” and sat in front of them. Not a few inches away. Not a table away. Right in front of them. Well, in front of Peter. 

Ned threw a carrot at her. 

“I swear to God if anybody throws another carrot at me I’m going to kill you both,” Michelle said. 

“I wanted to make sure you were actually here right now,” Ned said. She grabbed a carrot off Peter’s tray and threw it at Ned. 

“You’re both idiots,” Michelle said. Peter looked at her and smiled. 

“Hi.” 

Michelle smiled back. 

“Hi.” 

They were interrupted when Ned threw another carrot at her. 

“Leeds, I swear to God!” 


End file.
